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Post by Dart on Feb 8, 2008 5:27:37 GMT -5
:'(Just would like to say thank you all, very much for having me. In return, please allow me the honor in sharing with you some of my Bardic talent. To start things off on a quintessential note, here is Robert Louis Steven's 'Requiem' by memory. Please believe me. ;D Dig the grave and let me lie Glad did I live and glad did I die And I laid me down with a will This be the verse you grave for me Here he lies where he longs to be Home is the Sailor home from sea And the Hunter home from the hill ~bows~ applause, welcome, always Well, hey, if you didn't like it at least I didn't do the 'Vagabond,' yet! That one is coming up next before mine own. I found a way to sing it that makes it sound more bardicly than, *hggmmuhmm* ~spoken, to an air of Schubert~ Uh, how drole. Give more to life than a kick in the pants. If any of you get the chance, Robert Louis Stevenson's Selective Writings is a GREAT find! I should know I left mine that I had bought for like $2-3 at a laundro-mat. Sorry, I forgot the quintessential line from the quintessential poem, oops! Whoops, my bad Obviously, it's from memory; I keep forgetting something. Thanks for your understanding.
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Post by Dart on Feb 8, 2008 5:52:58 GMT -5
Before I do this lovely piece might, I say did you any of you know his original birth name was indeed Robert Lewis Balfour-Stevenson? Now I shall commence with a timely classic of pride titled 'Vagabond' by Robert Louis Stevenson. Again, once more with feeling and by memory. ;D Give to me the life I love, Let the lave go by me. Give the jolly heav'n bove, And the road before me. Bed in the bush with stars to see, Bread I dip in the river. There's the life for a man like me, That's the life forever. -- Let the blow fall soon or late, Let what will be o'er me. Give the face of Earth around, And the road before me. Wealth I seek not, Hope nor Love, Nor a friend to know me. All I seek the Heav'n bove, And the road before me. -- Or let Autumn fall on me Where afield I linger. Silencing the bird on tree, Biting the blue finger. White as meal; The frosty field. Warm, the fireside haven. Not to Autumn will I yield, Not to Winter even! -- Let the blow fall soon or late, Let what will be o'er me. Give the face of Earth around, And the road before me. Wealth I seek not, Hope nor love, Nor a friend to know me. All I seek the Heav'n bove, And the road before me. see what i mean, *sniff* ~thank you~ Louis was changed from Lewis because of a politician going by Lewis. They had a thing against, the Scots, from naming children after other they don't like, in this case changing it after the fact. Something to do with affiliation. The name Balfour came from his mother's side. Then it was good for no name to die out, the mother's or the father's. The Balfour from his mother was dropped at no consequence, considering how famous he became. Question of the Thread?: Who Inspires You? To Do Anything? Don't be shy. Please reply. For me that is Robert Louis Stevenson. May God rest his weary soul. And, I ain't a Christian. ;D lol Thanks.^~°
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Post by Dart on Feb 8, 2008 6:06:49 GMT -5
^~°You made it this far, I hope.^~° Now for my shortest poem ever, enjoy. ~°~° Fate is gold -----Freedom, dark and cold Desire is in winning -----Influence ebbs and flows ~°~°~° ^~° ^~° The symbology really is able to stand out, huh! Well, don't worry. Lots more to come, after I wake up. Sheesh, I am tired, *yawn* huh, (stretch). Goodnight poetry fans. I know I am. Bye.
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Post by Filendie on Feb 8, 2008 6:49:29 GMT -5
I think these are really great, why don't you think about creating a Bard character for the RPG? I think you would do well as one.
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Post by Dart on Feb 8, 2008 15:23:15 GMT -5
Just let me read the books first. Yeah, you're probably 100% right. Maybe, Eqücoè is her alter ego. I see, myself, as a young lass. Though, ambiguous and intersexed. She plays the female persuasion well. equcoeleora, that is. Eqücoè is just another part she plays well. Or, maybe a split personality. One a bard, the other a fighter. The full spectrum of possibilities are endless. Two me's!?! I digress. On to another poem. This piece I wrote at 15/16 sometime near or before my birthday. It is titled, 'My Worth.' _~~My Worth~~_ For when I thought of you there, to be there holding me, or then at the times I needed no one else. How do I let this out, but come to my knees and let it out. Then to deal with my emotions I know I must... But, Damn Society! Damn every last person, And bring them down to know what I'm feeling, At this place, At this time, At this moment. Bring me up, and pull me out so I may see of what causes others to live their lives they way they do. For when my turn comes when I lose my life to Death, I am not dying, but gladly handing back a disevolved thing, as if it were nothing; Not to exist, Not to happen. For only then, may I know what must be, and that, which is then come. For only then, may I begin to know myself. ~°~°~°^~° Uhm, yeah, I was at my most depressed, ever, when I wrote that. Pretty upset with my adopted family and biological one, too. I was back from visiting my birth mother, prior, earlier that year. I had a lot of feelings to work out and the poem helped, tremendously. It became a mantra. *tears being silently shed* Hence, the namesake, equcoeleora, for it means just that. 'My silently shed tears.' JCS
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Post by Dart on Feb 8, 2008 16:06:34 GMT -5
There, Out in the open, For the whole wide world to see, My pain. Visible, Like a gaping wound. The scars, brandished, No longer hiding, Waving them, triumphantly. My cuts no longer heal. Crusty from the open air. It was plain to see, Just from looking That I was only fooling, Myself. The words no longer Haunt me. I have gained back Some control. Facing my past Head-on, And reaching out Towards the Goal. In spite of Myself, Through pain And turmoil, I have gathered Up my Strength In stride. To deal with This strife, And painful past, From which Myself I denied. The words Still haunt My friends, My family And life. Without all I have Gone through, This existence I live Would be different. I am glad For myself, though I didn't. With (the) good comes the bad, And regretfully, I always have had A hard time. It doesn't always Need to be, Though. For I have finally Found How to be Me. I have Now come to Be free, and faced 'My Reckoning.' ~_~° °~_~ That dear friends, from here and now and one's I have yet to know, is my struggle to overcome 'My Worth.' I wrote that just now, thinking, if I don't feel that way any more, then how do I feel? And 'My Reckoning' was it, you know. I can't stop crying, , but I know it was good to finally release my <self> from that shackle. That previous poem, as strangely beautiful as it is, was in all sincerity, a crutch. A prison of my soul, my Life. Lately, I have been overcoming all sorts of emotional bonds of imprison or entrapment. Maybe I can give myself some further peace by continuing to write. ;D I'll put on a h-a-p-p-y face. 'Cause smiling faces are important in the face of adversity. They will never know what to expect. Happy faces, everyone, and that includes you, too. *hmm.* Better... ...Could use some work though, ... *scratches head* Something's not right. *pulls your cheeks* ;D Now, you are getting it! ;D Ha!
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Post by Dart on Feb 9, 2008 1:25:03 GMT -5
Now here's a new poem I have been thinking on this evening while waiting for the bus after grocery shopping at the Italian Market. ~_~_~_~_~ In Memorium °~°~°~°~° Memories And a Hall of dreams, Looking to The past I see Fragments Of my own path. Which way I choose, Wonder if I should, Go back? Yet, further on This road I tread, Your voice calls To me From across Veil of Death. I no longer Fear These Words I Dread. The revenant Speaks, And calls Me to Dream A sleepless wandering Rest. The fields Of green And a sky Of blue, Wondering Where I am. This isn't Real to Me. I try And Think harder. A moment of Time Has stirred, I ask myself Why? The facade Dissipates From the Fog and Mist I conjured. Without A headache I ponder The reverie. I remember A Sidhe Taking What I Had forgotten. It was all, But a Nightmare. From this I awoke And caused Quite a stir. Before my Eyes A being Dissolved From my Sight. Frightened And weak I go back To sleep. Wanting the Comfort of Fee. °~~~~~° A little out there I know. A Sidhe, an Elf. A Fee, a german word for Fairy. I am still a little scattered. In Memorium or In Memory/Memories. A bit incomplete for that feeling, what is missing? Which our memories unlock. What do yours tell you after reading this? Our memories are dear to each and every one of us. They tell us lots. They can do us harm if we lock them inside. They want to burst open and out! Others fade away, where do they go? What if we could dream them back? Now read the poem again. What do you see, differently? Comfort, knowing. A desire to tap into our own very 'Stream of Unconciousness.' What would you find in yours?
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Post by Dart on Feb 9, 2008 2:08:19 GMT -5
I had written this 3-4 years ago for my adopted father's daughter, my sister, Sharma Dutton. I know it has a Hallmark™ feel to it. Please bear through it. ;D ~~;~~ Music heals a wounded heart. You give it your all From the very start. Notes into whispers; A meaning of love. The prayer of an Angel Sent from above. You give and sing, And strive for the best. Buried deep inside Your memories' chest. The joy of a friendship Filled with strength and desire, A blessing to you Of heavenly fire The circle's complete, We've come round it's course. A mother you are With you're very first. _~~|~~_ Yup, she cried! Better believe it. Am I good or what? ;D
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Post by Dart on Feb 9, 2008 16:31:16 GMT -5
I had wrote this on the 1st, of this month: "A Light Beckons" ^~°~^@@^~°~^ --------_/l\_-------- a star appears gentle and clear shining in the sky a heavenly face looking down from space dimming in the horizon morning has come my life, that which undone forever lies here in your hands °~'~/°^°\~'~° -×___*___×-
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Post by Dart on Feb 9, 2008 16:48:29 GMT -5
flowers and rhymes in perfect time a song does not find pictures and signs all unaligned should no one be kind enough to mind books in their bind you will eat a lime ----- how's that for silly?!?
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Post by Dart on Feb 10, 2008 6:25:13 GMT -5
I need to release some pent up anger. My landlord told me I yell one more time I get a 20-day notice. I better get an anti-depressant then and/or anti-anxiety prescription. This will only help so much. 2 nights of neighbor, Katie, hating to be by herself, scared she says, having drunk people over, including herself. Loads, pissed and neighbor(s) over! Loud, middle of the night, right. Tonight, with me, police finally get over here. I called second time and stated police not doing said job, of course. One f-wit, a homophobe p.o.s. kicks my door on the way out, this is like 10-15 min after police leave. I go out in my boxers and shirt, briefs under boxers. And yell my lungs off. Hope God can forgive you 'cause I hell as can't you f-wit! (heard that on Catherine Tate, I did). You are so blonde, someone should give you spiked shoulder-pads, then maybe, just maybe, you can die in peace!... I feel loads better telling you this, damn right I do. She does her nut I'm tellin' ya'! And she a prat. Too, she a bloody snot-nosed kid. Crichey! Bloody hell. A ripe mouth that one got, so ripe, crap fall out her mouth hole and she eats with the oth'r end! lol I ain't British, but that was fun, wasn't it? Innit great? Ask me? Go on ask me if I am bothered? ... I ain't bovvered! Love that chattering teen. I gets the series-1 tomorrow. Don't worry, I am not ginger-phobic
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Post by Dart on Sept 21, 2009 23:44:46 GMT -5
it has been a while but here is another poem
ok
let me think
*puts poetry hat on*
well
here goes
~_~_~_
allow to me a sundered dream
to speak and behold
its majesty
a withered face
beyond the mists of time
i speak
and behold its rhyme
for ancient doors
they call to me
from beyond
the gentle sleep
~^*^~
well, that went well
if only they came to me as well as that one did
enjoy~<3
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Post by Dart on Jul 20, 2010 14:36:06 GMT -5
on the spot* just because this is me we are talking about here, people... ~_~_~_ silence and cunning slyness and thoughts forming geared towards empty desires burning inside like passions and flame the heat of the fire the smoke of the pyre rise up to take claim and legal defenses is all really just nonsense the comedy the tragedy and humor the roar and the clamor of thunder and lightning flashing by like a moment trapped in time or is it my mind that is lost in this maze ~_~~*~~_~ i like to refer to emily for poems like these if it wasn't for her i might have kept similar writings like these to myself her way of wrapping in subtle rhymings is what i aim and long for just as she could ~May she ever find peace wherever she is now... ~_~_~_ i am putting up my poems from aarinfasntasy because aarin is a B*!@# and i made up a phony account to get my poems off from there and up here where they should have been in the first place, phew loves, Dart
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Post by Dart on Jul 20, 2010 14:37:31 GMT -5
EXILES volume one === Is it here now, with it's song dying in the wind Voices soothingly sweet that one cannot find for if to be found trapped in the ground I will be here to listen and stay near
By the time everything goes burnt up in flames the screams of anguish and pain people left to die in shocked shattered state of their woes At night gone from this place we do not reside here no more w/o key to door By ladder we ride away to come back someday from far-away to a place we do not know The Ruins of Ambrai
~_~_~_
thank you Melanie Rawn for one of the greatest books I have ever read *sniff*
i wrote this one a long time ago after reading Exiles: The Ruins of Ambrai~
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Post by Dart on Jul 20, 2010 14:39:05 GMT -5
camilla & bobby~wedding day poem love unchained a moment in time bonds drawn together walking down memory lane honest space right from the heart holding you now we know how much our love is true, and disjointed much like we are 2008/11/27 for Camilla Marie Henry & Bobby Clayton Duncan now Bobby and Camilla Henry Duncan *=update=* they are no longer married, oh well but Camilla had my poem framed and made up nice ;D am i good or what
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